Sorry it's taken so long for another chapter... had a slow week. Hope y'all like it! (Also have an update on my dad; the ultrasound revealed a tear in his left shoulder, and my dad is now doing physio for the next couple weeks. Thanks everyone for praying!) Blessings, A. R. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      They didn’t stay at Brown’s long; just long enough for Dylan to tell Brown that Laurel had been attacked and that she would have the rest of the day off. He also summed up the courage – or perhaps his anger- to suggest that Vitton be addressed.      Laurel hardly listened at all, except she heard lots of yelling and that the servants watched her with wide eyes. They had never seen or heard of a lieutenant this angry about such a thing. Laurel wished it wasn’t so uncommon; she would have felt more at ease.      Dylan’s expression was unreadable, apart from the visible anger in his eyes as he spoke with his mentor. Brown, however, watched the buck with a strangely soft expression.      “Dylan, you still have to report to Vitton. He's your commander, and your supposed to obey his orders.” Brown interrupted, looking at Dylan from across the room. He no longer looked at Laurel, who sat against the wall quietly. She was trying so hard to breath normally.      Dylan scowled. “He'll see me soon enough. But her wellbeing comes first in this situation.” He retorted, heading to where Laurel sat and helping her to her feet. Brown didn’t object to this, as he saw that the doe would be useless for the remainder of the day and could use some rest, despite the work that would have to be done.      Brown pursed his lips, thinking carefully what to say next. He knew Dylan was mad, and that he was treading very deep water. “I understand, son. But Longtreader Administration comes first; and forbidden relationships shouldn’t-“      Dylan whirled around, startling everyone present at his sudden reaction. “Is it so wrong to care for a friend?” He shot back, staring straight at the old rabbit. No one moved. Everything was tense and quiet.      Dylan put a hand on Laurel’s shoulder, his defiant gaze on Brown as he helped the weak doe towards the door.      Brown gave a quiet sigh. “Dylan, come by later after you’ve seen your commander.” He suggested, waving his servants to head back to work as he left the room.      The servants who had gathered quickly dispersed, leaving Laurel and Dylan alone.      She drew a rattled breath. “Was that really necessary? Telling him what happened?” She asked hoarsely, breathing slowly to keep from coughing.      Dylan looked down at her, his features now relaxed as he offered her his arm and helped her out of the villa.      “He should know what’s been going on. Yes, he's your master, but he should know what’s been happening to his servants.”      Laurel just nodded, allowing Dylan to lead her home.        When they reached the Evergreen’s home, the streets were nearly bare as everyone was working. At least no one would grow suspicious at the sight of a Wrongtreader buck leading home a sick looking servant.      Dylan pushed open the door and led Laurel inside, shutting it behind them.      “Now, you are going to bed and you’re going to stay there until you feel better. I don’t care if that takes till tomorrow night, you’re going to rest.” He ordered, looking around the house warily.      Laurel gave him a perplexed look, leaning heavily against a chair. “What?” She asked.      Dylan grimaced. “Is your mother here?” He asked, peering cautiously into the kitchen.      Laurel started to laugh, then ended up coughing, her breathing unsettled all over again. When she could get her breathing under control, she spoke.      “No; but she’ll be home in about an hour. Why?”      Dylan gave her a conflicted look, saying nothing as he continued to walk carefully throughout the house, investigating every nook and cranny.      After he had examined the whole house, he returned to where Laurel was leaning against the back of a chair.      “Okay: you’re sitting out of tonight’s meeting.” He said in a low voice. Laurel now understood why he had been poking about the house. He was ensuring no one was listening; but her mother?      “Okay,” she said quietly, looking up at him. “But why are you so worried about my mom?”      Dylan blanched, looking away from her. Laurel was bewildered at his reaction.      He finally spoke up a few minutes later. “Laurel, you know as well as I do that your mother doesn’t want me near you. And it’s common knowledge that I’m paying more attention to you than most.”      Laurel felt her temper flare. Why should anyone be nosy about this? They were friends. Was that so bad? And why did her mother think so little of him? He was different!      “She hasn’t liked me since… your dad’s death,” he added quietly, hanging his head.      Laurel looked down, trying to keep her anger from erupting. “She shouldn’t hold anything against you, whether she knows you’re for the Cause or not.” She said quietly.      Dylan looked up at her, quiet for a moment. “Why shouldn’t she like me? Laurel, you know what hardly anyone does about me. I live a double life, where no one accepts me. Not even Vitton.” As he uttered this name, his face twisted into a snarl. “The rat… I still have to go find out why he went after you.”      Laurel looked him straight in the eye. “But you’ve done so much for her, for us.” Dylan raised an eyebrow at her, confusion filling his countenance.      “Weren't you the one who helped get us the permission to take Patrick in?” She asked.      Dylan blushed dark crimson. “You weren’t supposed to find out,” he said quietly. Laurel smiled at his embarrassment.      “Dylan, even though she doesn’t know, I know. My dad knew. You’ve done so much for us.” She continued, her eyes moistening at the mention of her dad.      Dylan was silent for a few minutes, watching her. When he spoke, his voice was low. “That’s what we’re supposed to do. Look out for each other.” He stated, moving towards the door. But he stopped, turning back to face her. He smiled. “Besides, your dad made me promise I would look out for you. May as well honor his wish, seeing as you have a habit of getting in trouble.”      Laurel smiled, blinking against her tears and managing to chuckle. “Okay, doctor Walters. Will you let me work tomorrow?” She asked, trying to sound teasing.      Dylan smiled back, his eyes brightening. “Well, that depends on how you’re feeling tomorrow. I’ll try-" He stopped talking when the door rattled open, his eyes widening. Laurel felt her heart stop.      Fern stood in the doorway, staring at Dylan. He stood taller, his head held high. He was almost himself, apart from the reserved, cold personality that took the place of his usual gentle one.      Fern’s eyes blazed as she looked at the tall silver buck, anger and indignation in her expression. She turned to Laurel and started, her accusing gaze turning to shock.      “Laurel, what’s going on? Why is he here?” She asked.      Laurel opened her mouth, tongue-tied at the abrupt question and worried how this would end. Before she could even try to explain, she started to cough and wheeze.      Dylan seized the moment. “I was doing my rounds in the sixth district and found her staggering back to her masters. Said something about being mugged by some bucks while she was on an errand. Her master asked me to see her home.” He explained, trying to sound disinterested and cocky. It worked, but Fern didn’t seem to notice.      She put an arm around her daughter, looking at her worriedly. “You were attacked?” She asked in a fearful, quiet voice.      Laurel swallowed and nodded. It was almost the truth; but she wanted to acknowledge that it was Dylan who had saved her life. But seeing the warning in his eyes, she knew better than to say it.      “I’ll be okay… I might lay down, though.” She told her mother, pushing herself away from the chair and trying to stand on her own.      “Thank you, lieutenant. I’ll find some way to pay you back for your trouble.” She expressed, hoping she sounded convincing.      Dylan’s eyebrows raised slightly, taken aback by her acting. He recovered himself before Fern could notice.      “Ah- yes, well… recover quickly so you can get back to work.” He answered, making his tone sound sharp. He turned then, not looking at either does as he exited the house.      Fern helped Laurel to bed quickly, chattering like she would to a kit. The thought made her think of Patrick, and Laurel tried to push back her worries.      Fern pulled the blanket over Laurel and kissed her forehead, smiling at her. But Laurel saw the cloud in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” She asked.      Fern shook her head. “Nothing… just a little bothered, that’s all.”      Laurel didn’t press the matter, as Fern began to prohibit Laurel from leaving the bed. As Laurel felt herself doze off, she reminded herself to ask her mom again why she was so disturbed.        Dylan entered the board room at Longtreader Administration. Many bucks were gathered, most of them captains. The Commandant gave him a nod, then looked away. Dylan gave a puzzled look and examined the rest of the room, wondering why he was summoned here. His gaze fell on a buck in the corner.      Vitton.      The captain smiled at Dylan; but it wasn’t a friendly smile. More of a sneering, mocking grin to unsettle those who saw it.      Dylan felt his blood boil. “Vitton,” he greeted coldly, wanting to drive his sword straight through the cruel rabbits heart.      The captain raised his eyebrows in mock appreciation, trying to look like he was truly honored by Dylan’s address.      “Lieutenant Walters, so good of you to join us! I was worried we would have to send a search party to find you.”      Dylan stared coldly at Vit. “Explain to me why your bucks were trying to strangle Virgil Brown’s servant.” He demanded, his blue eyes boring into the wicked rabbits own. They filled with a dark light. The other captains in the room ceased talking, taken aback by the strange conversation. They all watched Dylan and Vitton.      “Its common knowledge that the rat knows you, and we were desperate to have you join us on this occasion,” Vit explained, looking down on Dylan with a fierce glare.      Dylan clenched his fists. “Desperate enough to kill a doe?” He challenged. “You do realize Virgil has forbidden-" The Commandant clapped him on the shoulder, smiling at everyone in the room. His hand gripped Dylan’s shoulder painfully, and he recognized the warning. He stopped talking.      “Its just a joke, Walters. Expect to be pranked by friends when a doe is involved,” The Commandant explained, giving everyone amused looks. They all began to chuckle. Dylan felt his blood grow hot. Some joke, he thought. But he realized as conversation began to start up again that if he was to keep the Cause – and most importantly, Laurel – safe, he had to act like a hard nosed Wrongtreader, Whether he liked it or not. He couldn’t jeopardize the Tunneler or the Resistance.      Vitton grinned wickedly at Dylan from across the room, looking like he had won a game by cheating.      The Commandant cleared his throat loudly, and the chatter stopped. “What matters now, lieutenant, is that you’re here.” Everyone stood up straight as the door opened and in strode a gallant buck. Dylan’s eyes widened.      Ambassador Garten Longtreader looked at every buck in the room. When his aloof gaze fell on Dylan, his brows knit in sobriety.      “Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”